100Prompt Challenge
by skittles and win
Summary: A collection of one-shots written thanks to a 100-prompt challenge. Some may not be related to Kingdom Hearts, and thus there will be gaps in numbers. Collectively rated T because language and 'idealogically sensitive' things happen a lot with me.


I enjoy language. It is easy to pick up on and I can get to let people know what I think. Master Ansem told me to write my thoughts down, but I do not know enough words yet to say it all. It is now time for my lessons. I will write more later, if I find time to.

---

Master Ansem told me I have picked up on the language abnormally fast, and theorizes that I knew a language previously, though I no longer remember it, and am subconsciously translating everything I hear and say from that other language to the one I am now learning. He was disappointed to learn that I had only attempted writing once in the space of two weeks, so he has banned me from the library until I've written more.

He knows how to control me far too well. I must find a way to…I can't think of the words I want to use. This is very frustrating. I must return to this later.

---

Elaeus knows of my predicament with being barred from the library until I write more, so he suggested that, to fill space and thus write more and persuade Master Ansem to allow me back into the library, I simply relate things that are happening, or have happened. I suppose this should work, at least for filling space, though I fear it will be very dry to read over once I've finished.

I suppose I should start at the beginning, where everything starts. I know most people don't have a beginning, as they can only remember a certain amount of time in their past, but I remember everything that I remember quite clearly. Which is to say, I only remember from the point just a day or two before I was found by Elaeus. I don't know where I came from, but I knew my name, and my age, instinctively I suppose. Ienzo, age seven. For some reason, I knew these two things once I had figured out what was being asked. That was the beginning, for me, being found by Elaeus. I was living in a park here in Radiant Garden, in clothing that looked to be nice at one point. At the time, I wasn't really coherent of anything, but I knew I was experiencing a very strong emotion that I have now identified as fear.

I would like to take a moment to reflect on this 'emotion' concept, and particularly fear. Master Ansem said this should be my thoughts, and so it shall be. I believe that without emotion, everything would be simpler, and much better in the end. Those things that I hear the older boys talking about, all those horrible things they say are going on in Radiant Garden, crime and corrupt politicians, wouldn't be in existence without emotion. Emotion gets in the way of good decisions. Braig tells me I am practically devoid of emotion, for which I am glad. Even the supposedly small amount of emotion I feel is a burden. Fear is the one I am most familiar with. It is rather unpleasant. I'm not sure how to elaborate on this. There are no words in my current vocabulary to describe fear. I don't believe there are any words in this language that would do to properly describe such a concept.

But I digress. Elaeus found me in the park, and I was undeniably scared, and confused. He was carrying a small puzzle at the time, and when I saw him playing with it from afar, it caught my attention. He must have noticed me watching, because he came over and offered me the puzzle. I solved it quickly, which apparently surprised him. He then told me that it was a way of measuring intelligence, though I couldn't understand him at the time. After that, things happened very quickly. He took me to see Master Ansem, who took me on as an apprentice on Eleaus' word alone.

I'm very…grateful, I suppose, to Master Ansem. He taught me the language used here at a good pace, and has told the other apprentices to treat me as one of them, even though I'm much younger. He has taught me other things as well, science and philosophy and all sorts of things...

---

We often have group discussions on philosophy and the like. Today, we spoke of the figurative heart. I actually brought it up myself. Master Ansem speaks of the heart as if it is something more than just an organ that circulates blood and oxygen through one's body. He has never before elaborated on why he speaks of the heart in such a way, so I finally took it upon myself to ask him. I asked him simply what the figurative heart was. This sparked quite a debate amongst the apprentices, myself included.

Instead of answering the question himself, Master Ansem opened the question up to everyone. Braig was first to speak, as usual. He said that the heart is how we feel emotions. Everyone agreed with him, though I remained silent. Then Even said memories made the heart what it was, and without our memories, we might as well not exist. I have a feeling that comment was aimed at myself. I don't believe he much cares for me…He's the youngest, besides myself, and the smartest. Perhaps he feels threatened by the fact that I'm almost nine years younger than him and just as intelligent? But that doesn't matter. If he was trying to make me feel bad for myself, he failed. The only thing I felt was a bit of contempt towards Even for even trying. I don't care if I don't have memories before I got here…and I don't care if he thinks that means my heart is worthless. If the figurative heart is only used for emotions, I don't want one.

---

I've finally been allowed back in the library, and am once more spending most of my time outside of lessons there. But if I stop writing again, the punishment will begin again. It's completely pointless, really, but Master Ansem says that if I write down my thoughts, I might understand them more. I respect Master Ansem, but in this case he is sorely mistaken. I don't need to write anything down to understand it. My mind doesn't need visual stimuli to function properly. I'm smarter than that.

He didn't ask to see what I had written, saying I shouldn't feel like I needed to present it…I don't believe I'm going to need to write much more. Things will go as planned. I'm sure of it.

---

…I haven't seen this notebook in ages. I've celebrated three pseudo-birthdays, set up by Braig of course, since I last wrote in this. That plan I wrote of last time went wonderfully. Whenever Master Ansem asks me if I've been writing, I tell him I have. He asks me if it has helped, I say that it has. He never questions my lies. I began an experiment on my own the day I supposedly turned eight years old, though it was really just a year from the day I first became Ansem's apprentice. I started lying, pushing the limits of what I could make people believe. Ansem is a very trusting man, and far too easy a target. I concentrated on him for only a few days, and discovered that I could tell him just about anything and he would believe it. A brilliant man, yes, but trusting to a fault. He's almost…childish in how much he trusts me. So I quickly moved on to the other apprentices, who are far less trusting. Elaeus can see through my lies easily; he knows me too well. But he doesn't stop my experiment, and for that I am grateful to him. Even doesn't trust a word I say, but he can't differentiate my lies from my few truths. Dilan is unreadable, as usual, though I believe I can fool him in most cases. Braig either doesn't know I lie more than I tell the truth, or doesn't care…as far as I can tell. He too is hard to read. I'm glad I have such an intelligent group of test subjects for my experiment.

---

Today is the day Braig claims I turn fourteen years old. The other apprentices have planned some sort of 'surprise party' but I'm no idiot. I can differentiate a lie from the truth as well as I can tell a lie myself. I can only hope there won't be alcohol involved. Braig seems to take every chance he can to consume alcohol, and to attempt to force it down my throat. I wouldn't like to think of what might happen if I were to get drunk.

But that isn't why I am picking up this very old notebook once more. A new apprentice has joined us, after all these years of there being just five. He is like myself in that he has no memories prior to arriving here, but he already knew the language. He didn't know his name or age as I did, so we were forced to give him a name. I'm not sure what process the others used to choose his name, but we now call him Xehanort. I'm not going to lie, not now, not to myself. Xehanort worries me. Something about him brings back an emotion I haven't had to feel in ages: fear. Elaeus had banished all fear from me up until Xehanort showed up, because I had nothing to be scared of with him here to protect me…But somehow, I don't think Elaeus can protect me from Xehanort. I'm not sure what it is that Xehanort could do, but still I'm scared of him. This fear is stronger than any emotion I've experienced for years now. I have slowly been learning to abolish all emotion from my heart, and it was working…It still is working, for the most part. I feel no anger, no sorrow, very little joy…It's working, except for the fear. The fear is stronger than ever. I can't control my emotions when Xehanort is near. I shy away from him if ever he tries to make physical contact, as if he has some sort of disease. He asks me questions about myself—he is abnormally curious, and has a habit of asking all the questions I don't want him to ask—and my throat seizes up. When finally I've managed to speak, the truth involuntarily comes out.

I can't lie to him. I can't lie to Xehanort, the one person I perhaps want to lie to most of all. I wish he didn't even know my name. But he does, he knows my name and many more things he's managed to coax out of me, against my will. He understands me, can follow my thought processes and predict me as if I was a small child. He understands me, and I hate it. Everything about him makes me sick, and he knows as much about me as Elaeus does. It's horrid. I just wish he would leave, do something so against Master Ansem's beliefs that he is sent away, for good.

I feel like a child, going on like this, even if it is just a notebook only I have access to. That is the effect Xehanort has on me. He makes me feel like a child, with the way he acts like he understands that I do the things I do because I don't know any better, or some idiotic thing like that. I hate him. I want him to leave.

He scares me.

---

I believe I was right to fear Xehanort.

I don't have time to elaborate, but am writing this as a reminder to myself. The next time I pick up this old notebook, I must recount whatever may happen next. I'm sure that whatever it is, it will be impossible to get straight unless I put it on paper. Xehanort is practically the essence of chaos, and chaos is difficult to understand all at once. A proper timeline will most likely be necessary.

My name is Ienzo, and tomorrow is the ninth anniversary of my arrival here. I will supposedly be turning seventeen. Our teacher, the great Ansem the Wise, has been missing for just over three weeks now. I don't believe anyone will be celebrating tomorrow, least of all myself. But it is undeniable that Xehanort has something planned, and it would be so like him to choose a 'special' day to put it into effect.

I have ceased to feel all emotion, except for one. That emotion remains the most prominent in my 'heart' at all times, and I don't believe I will ever be rid of that horrible thing called fear. Even if I no longer had a heart to call my own.

I was wrong to call the earliest reaches of my memory the beginning. This, it seems, is truly the beginning. But the question remains: How will it end?


End file.
